


The Boy Next Door

by bowtiesandboatshoes



Series: The Boy Next Door [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, kid!klaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 05:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7702438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowtiesandboatshoes/pseuds/bowtiesandboatshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: Kurt and Blaine's great moving disaster of [whichever year you'd like] from aspiringtoeloquence. I hope you enjoy it!</p>
<p>I went with kid!klaine, so I think we're looking at somewhere around 2005 for the year. :) </p>
<p>Thanks to wemeow2 for the beta read and to shenanigansensu for brainstorming with me! And of course to todaydreambelievers for organizing this whole exchange and keeping the fic flowing for our fandom!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Next Door

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aspiringtoeloquence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspiringtoeloquence/gifts).



Kurt watched from his bedroom window as a huge moving truck pulled up in front of the house next door. Old Mrs. Travis, who invited Kurt in for tea and helped him bake cookies to go with it, had finally decided the place was too big to live in alone and had sold most of her things and moved to a sunny condo in Florida. She'd sent Kurt a postcard with a picture of palm trees on it, letting him know her new address. He pinned it to the bulletin board in his room, but he still hadn't written back. Today, though, a new family was moving into Mrs. Travis’ house. Kurt wondered if they had kids. There weren't many in the neighborhood, which was part of the reason Kurt had spent so much time with Mrs. Travis to begin with. His friend Rachel from school lived way on the other side of town, too far for him to go on his bike.

Kurt hoped there might be a girl his age moving in. He'd learned already that most of the boys in Lima weren't interested in the same things he was. He figured he'd have a better chance at making friends with a girl, like he’d done with Rachel in Kindergarten and Mercedes, who'd been in his class the previous year. The boys at school still picked on him a lot for liking singing and nice clothes while they were much more interested in sports and roughhousing.

When Kurt saw a car pull into the driveway, he turned his attention to the family climbing out of it. He saw a man and a woman, both with dark hair, the woman’s dangling behind her in a ponytail of thick curls. They were dressed in jeans and looked ready to spend the day unpacking and settling into their new home. The man walked away from the car and towards the truck, where the movers had opened the trailer and begun pulling out ramps to unload. Kurt saw him talking to a man with a clipboard.

He looked back at the car, where the woman still stood beside the open back door, hunched over like she was talking to someone inside. Kurt wondered who it was. A kid? More than one? Maybe a little kid who still needed help getting out of a car seat? That would be ok with Kurt. He wasn't old enough to babysit yet, but he liked little kids and in a couple of years he’d be old enough. But then the woman stepped out of the way and Kurt had a clear view of the back seat. There was a boy, about his age, with dark curls like his mom’s. He sat with his arms crossed over his chest and made no move to get out of the car. His mother looked at him and gestured towards the house before walking up the path to the door, unlocking it, and stepping inside.

Kurt wondered why the boy wouldn't get out of the car. He guessed maybe he wasn't happy about moving. Kurt didn't think he would be, if his father said they had to. This was the only house he ever lived in, and even if he didn't have a lot of friends, he had a few, and he knew which kids to avoid. Going somewhere new where he didn't know anybody would be scary. Kurt watched out the window as the movers unloaded boxes and wheeled them into the house. The boy still sat in the car, even though both of his parents had gone inside now.

Kurt decided he would draw a picture for his new neighbor to welcome him. He moved away from the window and got out his sketch pad and colored pencils. He thought about what to draw. He liked drawing people with all different kinds of outfits on, and he liked drawing scenes from his favorite books, but he didn't know what this boy liked. He decided to draw a map of the neighborhood. He thought it might be useful, and maybe it would make the boy feel better about moving in if he knew where things were. He started with their two houses, making sure to include the tree that stood between them and the swing set in his own backyard, even though he didn't really use it much anymore. He drew the park, a couple of blocks away, with its playground and basketball court, and a path that looped around the outside. He added his school, just beyond that. He assumed the boy would go there too. He thought about what else he should add, things a new kid should know about, like the ice cream shop downtown, but he wasn't really sure how to get there or where it belonged on his map. He wasn't old enough yet to go very far by himself and he needed his dad to drive him most places. He decided his immediate neighborhood would have to be good enough. He could always tell him about the other places anyway.

Kurt put the final touches on his drawing and put away his paper and pencils. He went back to look out the window. The movers were carrying a big couch off the truck and towards the house. The boy was still sitting in the car, his arms no longer crossed and his head slumped forward a bit. He looked sad, Kurt decided. He grabbed his drawing and went downstairs to find his dad.

“Morning, kiddo,” Burt said as Kurt walked into the kitchen. “Whatcha got there?” he asked, noticing the paper in Kurt's hand.

“It's a map,” Kurt said, “of our neighborhood. I made it for the new boy next door. Did you see the truck outside?”

“Sure did,” said Burt, “and that's awfully nice of you. I'm sure he'll appreciate knowing where things are. How ‘bout after breakfast we both go over and introduce ourselves?”

“Ok,” Kurt said, climbing up onto a stool at the counter where Burt had placed a plate of pancakes, making sure to slide the drawing far across the counter so he wouldn’t get any sticky syrup on it by accident.

“Hey, Dad?” Kurt asked in between bites.

Burt looked up from his plate, using his eyes to encourage Kurt to continue as he swallowed the bite of pancakes he'd just finished chewing and reached for his coffee mug to wash it down.

“The new boy...he looks sad. He won't get out of the car. He's just sitting there.”

“Huh,” said Burt. “Well, maybe he is sad. Moving isn't easy. But maybe knowing there's a nice kid like you next door will make him feel better.”

“I hope so,” Kurt said quietly. He was honestly a little worried about meeting the boy. What if he was mean, like some of the boys at school? He hoped he wouldn't be. If they were going to live next door to each other, he hoped the other boy would be nice at least, even if they weren't going to be friends. But something about the sad boy in the car intrigued Kurt. He hoped they could be friends. It would be nice to have a friend right next door, someone he could see any time instead of waiting for someone's parents to have time to drive.

Kurt hopped down from the stool when he finished eating and brought his plate to the sink. He rinsed it and placed it in the dishwasher, then did the same with Burt’s dishes. Loading the dishwasher had been one of his chores for a long time, and he knew exactly the best place for each cup and dish to go. Sometimes Burt would put the dishes in if Kurt wasn't home, but Kurt didn't like that. He always rearranged them so they were the right way before adding the next meal’s dishes to the machine. He had a system for emptying it too, always putting the silverware away first, then the cups, then the bowls and plates. Today's breakfast dishes had filled the machine, so he added detergent and pressed the button to run the wash cycle before grabbing his picture from the counter and heading off in search of his father.

Kurt knew he'd find him in his home office. He was almost always there on summer mornings, doing paperwork from home so Kurt wouldn't have to spend so much time at the garage. Sometimes in the afternoon he'd go to the shop with Burt and amuse himself drawing or reading or listening to music in Burt’s office there. Some weeks he had camp, and sometimes he'd spend the afternoon at Rachel’s or Mercedes’ houses. When Mrs. Travis had lived next door, she’d look after him sometimes too. They'd bake cookies or pies that he'd bring home to share with Burt for dessert. She'd even started teaching him how to cook some real meals in addition to the baking. Kurt would miss her. They were friends, even if she was an old lady and he was just a kid. But Kurt thought about the new boy next door and how nice it would be to have a friend his own age there instead.

“Dad,” he said, peeking into the office, “can we go now?”

“Sure thing, Kurt. Just let me finish this one order…”

Kurt leaned against the door frame while he waited for Burt to be done.

“Ok,” Burt said as he got up from his desk, “let's go meet our new neighbors.”

~

Kurt and his dad stepped out of their front door and headed down the path to the sidewalk. The day was bright and warm but the sun hadn't risen high enough in the sky yet for it to be truly hot. As they walked towards the house next door, the boy in the car took notice of them. He turned his head away before either Kurt or Burt could catch his eye, but he felt his heart soften just a little at the idea that there seemed to be a kid his age nearby. He knew he was being stubborn not getting out of the car, but he had not wanted to move. He supposed he'd have to go inside eventually but for now he just wanted to show his parents that he was not here willingly.

He didn't want to see his new room. He liked his old room perfectly fine, thank you very much. And he had liked his old school and his old friends and his old neighborhood, where he knew everyone and knew his way around and had just been given permission, now that he was ten years old, to ride his bike to the library by himself, as long as he told a grownup he was going. He didn't even know if this new town had a library, let alone where it was. Ugh. Why did they have to move? As far as he was concerned, this move was just one big disaster.

He'd just finished fourth grade at his old school, which meant he'd be in fifth next year, the oldest in the school, finally! Fifth graders got to do so many cool things the younger kids didn't. There was an overnight trip to nature camp that the whole grade got to go on. He was going to be in the school orchestra again, and now that he was the oldest, he would've gotten the best parts. He was going to run for class president. He'd had a lot of friends. He was sure he could've won. But no. They had to move to Lima. Lima where elementary school ended at fourth grade and fifth graders were the youngest at the middle school, so he’d never get to be the oldest. And no one would vote for some new kid, if there even was a student council to run for. As for orchestra, well, he knew he might be just as good as or even better than some of the older kids, but he also knew they never gave the good parts to the younger kids. He'd be back at the bottom, and it would be three whole years before he'd be the oldest now. That sounded like forever. Lima was stupid and this move was stupid and as he thought about how stupid it all was he huffed and crossed his arms over his chest again, pouting even though his parents were busy with the movers and not paying him any attention.

Kurt glanced nervously over to the car where the boy sat. He wasn't sure if he should just go up and introduce himself. What if he just wanted to be alone? He didn't want to start off on the wrong foot. Luckily as he and Burt headed down the sidewalk, the boy’s mom came back outside. Burt raised his arm and waved to her. “Welcome to the neighborhood,” he called out with a smile.

They walked towards each other, stopping at the end of the driveway. “I'm Burt Hummel, and this is my son Kurt. We live next door. Just thought we'd come say hi to our new neighbors.”

The woman smiled brightly. “Margaret Anderson,” she said. “It’s lovely to meet you. Kurt, if you'd like you can go say hi to my son Blaine. He's in the car. He's a little upset about the move, but I think he'd be happy to meet a new friend.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Anderson,” Kurt said. He looked up at his dad for reassurance and Burt nodded his encouragement. Kurt left the grown ups chatting on the sidewalk and made his way towards the car where Blaine sat. He stopped beside the open door and cleared his throat to get Blaine’s attention. When Blaine looked up, Kurt introduced himself. “Hi. I'm Kurt. I live next door. I made you this,” he said, holding out the map.

Blaine reached his hand out tentatively to take the paper from Kurt.

“You did? What is it?” he asked. “Oh, I'm Blaine,” he added quickly before Kurt could answer.

“I know. Your mom told me. And it's a map. Of the neighborhood. I thought...well, I thought it might help if you knew where stuff was around here.”

“I...thanks,” Blaine said. He couldn't help but smile a little, even in his bad mood. He looked at the drawing some more, trying to get his bearings. “You're a good artist,” he said.

“Thank you. I like drawing.”

There was a pause where neither of them really knew what to say. Kurt stood awkwardly toeing the driveway with his sneaker and Blaine looked straight ahead at the seatback in front of him.

“So why won't you get out of the car?” Kurt asked after a moment, surprising himself because he knew it was none of his business.

But also to his surprise, Blaine replied easily. “I'm mad. I didn't want to move here. But I'm just a kid so of course I had no say. My parents keep telling me how great it will be, but it doesn't sound so great to me.”

“Oh. Well, it's just Lima. It's not that great. But there's some good stuff, I guess. What kind of things do you like?”

Blaine looked up at Kurt. “Music mostly.” He shrugged as if he wasn't sure such a thing even existed in Lima and he'd have to learn to live without it.

Kurt’s face lit up. “Really? I love music! Singing mostly.” He'd started with enthusiasm but reined in his excitement a little as he realized his admission about singing wasn't usually considered the coolest thing.

“You do?” Blaine asked with interest, inching towards the edge of the seat and swinging his legs around so his feet dangled out of the car. School might still be awful and orchestra might stink and he might not know how to get anywhere on his bike, but just maybe this boy could be his friend. And the thought of having a friend made things seem just a little less disastrous for the moment.

“Yep,” Kurt confirmed when he realized Blaine didn't seem like he was going to mock him for it. “I was in chorus last year. I like musicals the best, but my mom loved The Beatles, so I know all of their songs too.”

“I love The Beatles!” Blaine said, bouncing a little on his seat and squinting up at Kurt in the bright sunlight.

Suddenly a huge crash and clanging sound came from the direction of the truck. Blaine hopped to his feet and both boys looked down the driveway to see what had happened.

“Mama!” Blaine cried out, close to tears as he ran to his mother. “My piano!” Kurt hung back gaping, not sure what to do.

In the street next to the truck the piano lay with its keys to the pavement. Somehow it had fallen from the ramp as the workers prepared to move it inside.

“I'm so sorry, ma’am,” the head mover said to Mrs. Anderson. “I don't know how this happened, but I can assure you we’ll make it right. The piano is fully insured against any damage in transit. We’ll document the incident and you can be sure any charges to repair or replace it will be fully covered.”

“I should hope so!” she said, running a soothing hand up and down Blaine’s back as he clung to her, no longer bothering to hold back his tears. Piano was his favorite instrument, and this one had belonged to his grandmother. She'd taught him to play on it at her house when he was just a little kid, and when she'd moved into a small assisted living condo, she'd given it to Blaine, paying special piano movers to bring it to the Andersons’ house. As Blaine remembered this, he got angry.

“We should have had the piano movers, like Grandma did! Then this never would have happened! Or we should have never moved at all! I hate it here!” With that he pushed away from his mother and ran off. He realized he didn't know where to run _to_. This place wasn't his yet. At his old house, he'd have gone to Cooper’s old tree house in the backyard. He glanced around, looking for somewhere he could hide. He settled for collapsing behind the wide trunk of the old tree that stood between his house and Kurt’s. He pulled his knees up to his chest and let himself cry. He didn't care if it was babyish. He couldn't keep it in anymore.

Burt had walked over to Kurt’s side in the meantime. “Maybe we better go home for now, buddy,” he said, wrapping his arm around Kurt's shoulders. Kurt nodded and let his father lead him back towards the sidewalk. He cast a glance back towards the tree and Blaine, not wanting to just walk away from him when he was so sad. “Wait,” he said, and broke from his father's grip to run back up the driveway and over to Blaine.

Kurt kneeled down in the grass next to him. “Blaine?” he said as he tentatively reached out for Blaine’s shoulder to try to get his attention. Blaine shook him off and burrowed his head against his knees.

Kurt frowned, but he understood. Sometimes he just wanted to be alone too. “Ok. It's just...we have a piano at our house, if you ever wanted to come play. ‘Til yours gets fixed, I mean…”

Blaine turned his head to look at Kurt then. He managed a small smile and a noncommittal shrug before hiding his tear-streaked face once more.

“Ok. I’ll...see you later, I guess,” Kurt said as he stood up. “Bye, Blaine.”

He cut across the lawn this time, stopping before squeezing through a narrow opening in the hedges that separated their yards to look back one more time at Blaine. They'd only just met, but for some reason what Kurt wanted more than anything right then was to put a smile back on Blaine’s face. Things seemed to be off to a terrible start for him in Lima, and Kurt just wanted to make them better.

~

“Blaine, sweetie, why don't you come inside and get cleaned up?” Mrs. Anderson said as she walked up to her son. He had stopped crying, but was still sitting forlornly under the tree, leaning listlessly against the trunk and absentmindedly pulling up fistfuls of grass before letting the blades fall from his fingers back to the ground. “Your father ordered some pizza for lunch. It should be here soon.”

“I'm not hungry,” Blaine replied sullenly.

“Blaine… I know you're upset,” she said, sitting down next to him. “I know you don't want to be here and I know things aren't going very well so far. And the piano...it means a lot to me too, you know? I played it, when I was little. I hope it can be fixed.”

Blaine just looked at her.

“Look, Blaine, I know moving is hard. But I hope you'll give it a chance here before you decide to be miserable. You have a great room inside, and we can decorate it however you want. And the neighbors seem nice,” she said hopefully. She'd noticed Blaine had perked up a little talking to Kurt. Maybe a new friend would be just the thing to pull Blaine out of his funk.

“I guess…” he said.

“Well, once we get unpacked, you can invite Kurt over whenever you want. If you want to that is.”

“Ok,” he said flatly. The truth was he liked the idea of being friends with Kurt. But he was still in a bad mood. Even the idea of being a good host took too much energy right now. “He said I could come play the piano at his house,” he volunteered, though he wasn't quite sure why. But saying it aloud made him feel a little better for some reason.

“Oh,” said Mrs. Anderson. “Well that was very nice of him. You can do that any time too, as long as it's ok with Mr. Hummel.”

Blaine looked up at her, his expression softening a little. “Thanks, Mom.” Being grumpy was tiring, and he realized suddenly that he actually was kind of hungry. He stood up and brushed off the back of his shorts. “Did you say something about pizza?” he said. “Because I think I maybe could eat some after all…”

His mom smiled and put out her hand for Blaine to help pull her up. “Come on, I bet by the time you're washed up it'll be here…”

“Ok, Mama.” Blaine started walking towards the house when out of the corner of his eye he spotted the map Kurt had drawn for him on the driveway next to their car. He walked over and bent down to pick it up, looking it over once more and smiling in spite of himself as he turned towards the house again. At least there was one thing about Lima that didn't seem completely awful. Maybe with Kurt next door it wouldn't be quite so bad here after all.


End file.
